


Sinner's Grin

by daisyisawriter91



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Crimes & Criminals, Drunkenness, M/M, Murder, Pre-Relationship, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 07:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16739506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyisawriter91/pseuds/daisyisawriter91
Summary: Doc is either too drunk for a faerie ball, or not drunk enough. He doesn't find he cares when he meets a mysterious man with blue eyes...





	Sinner's Grin

Doc couldn’t decide if he was too drunk for this, or not drunk enough. Not drunk enough would imply this was _actually_ happened. Another factor in the “too drunk” part. Maybe he’d start a path of sobriety. He almost laughed at the thought, immediately. A pretty dream, but it wasn’t gonna happen anytime soon. He liked a good liquor, what could he say?  
The ballroom was gargantuan, the amber-brown ceiling so high Doc could barely see it, supported by peachy pink pillars of what he assumed was marble threaded with gold. The floor was swaying but he believed it to be red. People milled around, all strange in varying degrees.  
Without even touching their actual physical appearances, their _clothes_. What appeared to be a woman was wearing a storm cloud over her breasts, the rain making up her skirt. An amphibian person wore a suit made of plywood and shoes of pure silver. Not to mention the fact they were _amphibian_.  
Anything from small touches, such as gold encrusted nails and cat-like eyes, to their entire bodies being fur, amphibian...everything, large and twisting horns, and Doc was too scared of the ones that had _wings_.   
Doc tried to stay on his own two feet as he maneuvered around the ballroom, trying to figure out just how the room was being lit. The light seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once, and it was utterly bamboozling him.  
Doc weaved around a woman whose dress was made of snow, too scared of spilling his drink on her to notice the man directly behind him. Doc ended up spilling some of his drink on the floor and instantly mourned it.  
He turned around to face a startlingly handsome man that looked relatively normal. Doc had seen people dye their hair snow white for fashionable purposes. He could pretend that it was just a fashion choice, the same as his huge fur coat that seemed to be made of real fur. For one delirious moment, Doc wondered how many bears the man had killed before getting sucked into icy blue eyes.  
“Well, I’m not sure what I did for fate to put me here, but I’m glad I did it.” Doc said. He was certain it sounded smoother in his head, but the man smiled at him.  
“I could say the same to you.” The man said. His _voice_. Doc wasn’t the religious type, but he found himself wondering what god had gifted this man to him. “The name’s Bobo.” The man, Bobo, extending a heavily ringed hand.  
Doc resisted the urge to laugh. Although, maybe he hadn’t resisted it as much as he thought he had, considering the look on Bobo’s face.  
“Begging your pardon, sir. I have never had the pleasure of hearing that name, before.” Doc quickly recovered. “Call me Doc.” Bobo quirked up a brow.  
“And you laughed at Bobo.”  
“I said _call_ me Doc. Never said it was my real name. Unless, of course, you’d like to call me tomorrow.” said Doc, fairly pleased with how he was doing. This man could very well be a figment of his imagination, but damned if he wasn’t hot as hell. Doc would seize every opportunity that came his way, real or not.  
“Smart man. Even if you _are_ drunk on, what is it,” Bobo sniffed the air, then nodded, approvingly. “Whiskey. Not a bad choice.”  
“I assure you, I still have all of my...compartmentals.” Doc knew immediately he’d proved Bobo’s point, but he wasn’t about to back down.  
“Do you mean mental abilities?” Bobo asked, clearly amused.  
“That is what I said. Is that not what you heard?” Doc pushed on. He was in it, now, he couldn’t exactly back out.  
“Well, then, Doc. I think you’re exactly what I need.” Bobo said, a predatory smile on his face. If this was heading the way Doc thought it was, he was very much going to enjoy the next few minutes.  
Bobo gestured with his head and began weaving through the crowd. As best he could, floor still shaking beneath him, he followed Bobo, carefully avoiding all the strange clothing material.  
However, instead of leading him to a discreet place in the ballroom as Doc had at first anticipated, Bobo lead Doc up to the slightly raised platform at the back of the ballroom where two people dressed in what appeared to be finery, jewels around their necks and hands.   
Bobo bowed low before the platform, and Doc followed suit. May as well lean into the delusion, he figured.  
“Your majesties, I have here, the human ambassador, sent to us by the good grace of the king and queen.” Bobo introduced, a grandiose tone Doc had previously not heard. Doc shot a glance over to Bobo.  
“The human what now?” he hissed. He had the strangest feelings things weren’t going to end well.  
“You may rise, ambassador.” The woman, presumably the queen, ordered. It took Doc a moment (and a subtle prod from Bobo in his shin) to realize she meant him and he rose, quickly. “You are dismissed.” The queen addressed to Bobo. He nodded, curtly, and disappeared into the crowd.  
If Doc were to describe all of the thoughts going through his head, he would not be able to use 90% of them around small children. Or anyone, really. But definitely a few of them towards Bobo.  
“So, ambassador. Why have the humans graciously sent you to us?” The king asked in a booming, resonating voice.  
Doc’s mind was already focused enough on his motor skills. How could he lie to a king and queen on _top_ of being drunk out of his mind, inside a hallucination?  
“Uh, well, I…peace treaty.” Doc finally came up with. He didn’t have it in him to say exactly what a ‘treaty’ was, but he knew it was important sounding. Paper, he thought...paper was always important.  
The queen seemed delighted, but the king raised an eyebrow, suspicious. If the king was suspicious, Doc figured he wouldn’t have to worry about a headache in the morning because he’d be without a head.  
“And why now?” The king asked, quizzically. Doc’s fuzzy brain tried to come up with a plausible reason but then he realized he couldn’t even spell his excuse, much less add onto it.  
And that was when everything was, pardon his French, shot to shit.  
A knife was plunged through the king’s stomach, and Doc’s vision blurred substantially, floor swaying for two reasons.  
The assailant turned right around and slashed the queen’s throat. Doc felt his stomach churn. They probably hadn’t been human, but they were still people.  
Bobo stood in their place, hand bloodier than it had been, a manic glint in his eyes. Had there been something a bit less legal in Doc’s whiskey?  
People around them started screaming and panicking. Doc heard at least six people call for the guards.  
Bobo leapt off the platform, closed his fingers around Doc’s wrist, and winked. A hole opened up in front of their feet, swirling and dark. If Doc had seen it in any other situation, he would’ve made a wide berth around it. However, now, he was beginning to think it was his saving grace.  
“See you around, Doc.” Bobo’s voice whispered in his ear before he was being flung into the black hole.  
Somehow, during falling, he passed out. Perhaps it was best that way.

 

Doc woke up in his own bed, a rolling stomach and a loud, insistent headache, but no signs of the ordeal he only slightly remembered. He remembered Bobo. And the knife. And storm clouds…  
But there appeared to be no remnants. Perhaps it was a liquor induced dream? He couldn’t quite tell. All he knew was that aspirin was a godsend and as soon as he could move, it would salvage his day.  
The best he found he could do was...roll over. At a slow and incredibly unnatural pace. And when he finally did turn over to his other side to perhaps check his alarm clock, he was greeted by none other than his charmingly murderous ‘friend’ Bobo.  
Bobo was perched on a chair he’d moved from the kitchen into Doc’s bedroom, legs swung around both sides of the back. Why he’d moved a kitchen chair into the bedroom, Doc would never know. Some part of him believed he was still dreaming.  
Bobo now came equipped with a large scar over his left eye, his hair just a bit longer than before, but still snowy white, with metal piercings in his ears and scar tissue surrounding them at an unnatural level.  
“The fuck do you want?” Doc mumbled, half into his pillow.  
“Good morning to you, too.” Bobo greeted, dangerous smile playing at his lips.  
“I thought I dreamt you.” Doc slurred.  
“I hope it was a nightmare. Or a wet dream. I’d accept either as a compliment.” Bobo considered. Despite how quiet his voice was, it was still like someone was shooting fireworks off right in his ears.  
“You murdered somebody.” Doc pointed out. Bobo sighed, as though this entire conversation was simply tedious to him. He his fingers seemed to dance together.  
“Don’t we all do some questionably legal things?” Bobo supposed. His tone made him sound like a philosopher.  
“I can assure you, I’ve never killed anybody without reasonable cause.” Doc shot back.  
“Who said mine didn’t have a reasonable cause?”  
Bobo picked up a stray coin from the bedside table and began to play with it, flicking it seamlessly between his fingers. It made his fingers red, unnaturally so.  
“Why are you here?” Doc managed to ask.  
“It has been two weeks since the murder of the faerie king and queen,” Bobo began. But didn’t get the chance to finish as, headache be damned, Doc flew out of bed and stared at the calendar on the wall.  
“Two weeks?! Have I been asleep for two goddamn weeks?” Doc demanded, furiously. Bobo chuckled, utterly amused.  
“Although it looks like you could use it, no. By my estimation, you’ve only been asleep for, oh…” Bobo glanced at the alarm clock. “Seven hours, give or take. Time works a bit differently in the faerie realm, you understand.”  
“Is that what you are? A faerie?” Doc asked, trying not to need the wall to brace against. He was just the littlest bit dizzy. And that was being generous to himself.  
“Mm, a bit thicker skull than I anticipated, but still useful. Yes, I am a faerie,” Bobo answered. “And I would like your help. You were an excellent distraction, Doc. And while I don’t need one, it makes life a bit easier.”  
Doc remembered all the lessons his mother had given him on the feyfolk.   
“You don’t have my real name. You keep calling me Doc. Why didn’t you look at any of the numerous documentations I have lying around?” Doc asked, incredulously. His mind was starting to return to him.  
“A name unwillingly taken is as useful as an iron mine to us. You have to _give _it for us to use it.” Bobo answered. He seemed as though he’d rather be doing anything else than explaining faerie rules to Doc.  
“I doubt you’ll even be getting my initials.” Doc said, squinting at Bobo to try and focus on him. He hoped it came off as an intimidating glare.  
“So all of your ‘compartmentals’ didn’t go into that mustache. Good to see.” Bobo had a certain amusement to him that Doc was certain never left.  
“My what?” Doc asked, thrown off by the term.  
“My, my, you really _were___ drunk. Is that a regular occasion?” Bobo seemed to already know the answer. And it made Doc bristle.  
“Bobo, kiss my perfect ass.” Doc spat back at him.  
“Remind me later. Are you in or not?”   
On the one hand, there was rational, human thought. He had aided in the murder of a preternatural king and queen, no matter how unwillingly, and going with Bobo would only mean more crimes, stacking up and up and up.  
On the other, Bobo had to be temptation, itself. Doc wasn’t a religious man, but if he had been, he could’ve easily been led astray from the path of righteousness by icy blue eyes and a sinner’s grin.  
“Alright. What have I got to lose?” Doc found himself agreeing. Something in him knew immediately he’d regret it, later. But with Bobo’s eyes on him...he just couldn’t say no.  
Bobo picked himself up off chair, and Doc pretended not to be watching the movement. He approached Doc, smile still on his face.  
“Good to be working with you, Doc,”   
To Doc’s immense surprise, Bobo leant in and kissed him. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough to wipe away any doubts Doc had.  
“I’ll be back in an hour. Either get sober or get drunker.” With that, Bobo left. And Doc couldn’t stop himself from smiling after him.  
If all mistakes looked that good, Doc would never make a good decision in his life.


End file.
